


the rules of the game

by NoxWrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: And More Angst, Angst, Angstfest, F/F, happy ending??????, like yall its called angstfest what did you expect, side pairing (Jaime x Brienne)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxWrites/pseuds/NoxWrites
Summary: Jon storms in through the Great Hall. Arya right beside him. The two look ready to burn the entire country to the ground. All Daenerys can do is sit atop her throne, hands clasped, eyes closed and wait."You just let them take her!" Jon's the first to shout."Why aren't you out searching for her now?" Arya's shout hurts the most."Answer!" Jon shouts again.Daenerys stands from her seat. The action terrifying. It rattles the entire Great Hall. The entire Red keep. "I did not let them take her. I was tricked. I will burn villages to the ground. I will break open the world. I will raise a new army of the undead if I must. I will do everything in my power and more to get her back. To get them both back! I swear to the old gods and the new, to the Lord of Light, to any fucking person who hears me, that I will not stop until the woman I love is back to me. I will defy gods if I must, but I will save her."ordaensa angstfest au





	1. First Move

**Author's Note:**

> here it is!!!
> 
> also i took liberties with what's canon and what isn't. if anything's confusing simply ask and i'll try to clarify.
> 
> also, a quick Valyrian lesson:
> 
> zaldrīzes = dragon

When the Dragon Pit was built, it was hundreds of feet high and miles wide. Now all that remains is the falling rubble of burnt and broken walls. As if by some ancestral power, Drogon and his brothers holler out in anger and contempt as they approach.

Beneath them, her entourage and two other parties sit on the main stage, each equal distance apart and guards all alert. After a single lap around the pit, Drogon lowers himself. Landing on a crumbling seats, he lowers his head and gives a bent wing to his mother so she may dismount.

Daenerys knows it's a power move. Show the false queen her three full grown dragons, strike fear into her and then show her mercy. She knows what she’s doing. Drogon pushes off and goes to join his brothers above, leaving her to walk to few feet to her convoy. She takes her place at the makeshift throne in the center of her seating area.

Cersei Lannister sits head, a silent proclamation of being the rightful ruler. To Cersei’s left is the Northern leaders. Lady Brienne who she has heard tales from Ser Davos stands by with a stoic face. A young girl, similar in looks to Jon but with Bravos clothing, stands next to a young lad in a chair with wheels.

Based on the knowledge Jon has shared with her she recognizes them as Arya and Brandon Stark. His siblings. She expects him to be seated in the throne to their left but he stands behind Missandei, like an outcast somehow. His face reads confusion and Daenerys joins in the confusion as she sees a girl in his seat.

A woman to be exact. With fire as her hair and snow as her skin. A black northern cloak and outfit adorn her. The only semblance of color coming from the grey direwolf etched into her breast.

Their party is dressed like Jon, as if they were still in the North. The provided shade from Cersei must be a great comfort. Though it looks like they are all standing on needles.

After moments of prolonged silence Cersei speaks. “Now that we are no longer waiting,” a pointed look is tossed Daenerys’ way, “we can begin.”

Daenerys rises to speak but the insipid fool who claims rule to the Iron Islands interrupts to antagonize Theon, saying he’ll hand his sister over if he surrenders. After Theon bravely insults his uncle the meeting goes back into silence. A moment passes and Jon begins.

“I know we are at war. But there is something else, something worse coming. White Walkers are real. They are coming from beyond the wall and are on their way here.”

A short laugh rings out from the Lannister woman, “A wet nurse’s story. There is no such thing as a Walker.”

Jon looks to the ground, Daenerys remembers where they just were mere days ago. Surrounded on all sides, a party of twenty cut down to seven or so. She can feel him remembering those they lost.

“Aye, that’s what I believed as well. Until I joined the Night’s Watch. Became Lord Commander. Went beyond the wall not once, not twice, but many times. Lost at least twenty brothers. Saved the free folk by allowing them passage through the wall. But not before we they were slaughtered at Hardhome. Cut down by the undead only to rise again moments later at the hand of the Night King.” Jon motions for Sandor Clegane.

Clegane came through the underground steps, large wooden crate on his back with something inside screaming for release. Both Northern and Lannister men unsheathed their weapons and awaited orders. Both Northern and Lannister heads motioned for them to wait.

Sandor tossed the crate over his shoulder, the impact kicking up hundred year old dust from the stone floor. With a kick, the crate fell open to reveal a shrivelled and rotting body scraping at the floor. The wight ram straight for Cersei first, the queen made no move other than tightening her posture and gritting her teeth. Daenerys had respect for her looking death in the face and not moving.

Sandor pulled the beast back, letting it pull at it’s chains in between the three groups. Jon stepped forth with his valyrian steel sword in one hand and his obsidian dagger in another.

“There are two ways to kill them. Valyrian Steel and Dragonglass.” Jon uses the dagger to cut a wrist off of the beast, it flies off but still moves, before using his sword to end the wight. “Our plan is to mine the Dragonglass that rests under Dragonstone and find the remaining Valyrian steel weapons. We will then bring men to the North, equip them with Dragonglass weapons and appoint new Lords with Valyrian swords.”

Cersei has her hands now folded in front of her lap, asking a silent question to the bastard of Ned Stark.

“We ask nothing of the Lannister army other than to let us bring our troops from the South through the North without fighting. Once the war against the dead is won, we may continue.” Jon stands tall in front of Cersei, her judging eyes review him carefully.

“We won’t stand down.” Jon begins to speak but she raises her hand. “We will escort your forces and send the Lannister army with you. You will also have the Greyjoy fleet for whatever supplies you may need to ship from Dragonstone to the North.”

Euron stands from his seat and approaches the fallen wight. “Can they swim?”

Jon shakes his head, “No.”

“Then you have no fleet.”

Jaime shouts over the mumbles that erupt. “I beg your pardon?”

“If they cannot swim, then I am taking my men and my fleet back to the Iron Islands to live out the end of the world in peace.” Euron motions to the couple of men he has mixed with Lannisters and they begin to take their leave.

Theon’s remark is heard over everyone. “Coward.”

“Smart.” Cersei corrects him. “You say they have a hundred men for everyone one of ours? Then he is no coward, he’s smart.”

Everyone nods in silent agreement until Cersei speaks again, “Our agreement still stands. On one condition. The King in the North must not leave the North. He swears no allegiance to either queen. This war will be fought together but after that, the North is free and excluded from the rest of the war. I will trust Ned Stark’s son.”

Daenerys grits her teeth. Jon has already sworn the North to her. But if he’s smart he will back out of that oath. Daenerys needs him to back out of that oath. He looks from center stage to Daenerys and sadly shakes his head.

“I cannot agree.”

Daenerys lowers her head in disappointment. Cersei raises her head in confusion.

“And why is that?”

“Becau–”

“Because the North no longer recognizes Jon Snow as King.”

A voice that was silent during the entire arrangements speaks now. Commanding the air and the world around her. Jon steps back and Daenerys looks on at the woman directly across from her.

As the queen in the north stood from her makeshift throne, she walked along burning ground but did not melt. Instead, she turned. Faced the woman who killed her father and brother, closed her eyes, breathed in, and unleashed the howling winds of winter upon the southern queen like no one has before.

“As of three weeks ago, the North has been under the supervision of myself and my two siblings. The three final Stark siblings. We recognize Jon as a member of our family but for a different reason.” She motions for Brandon, who pushes himself forward her side. “A vote by all Northern houses has removed Jon as king to enact the eldest Stark, myself, as Queen in the North. Further information shows Jon is no son of Ned Stark.”

Brandon spoke with a tone that bore no emotions. “I spent years across the Wall. I became the three-eyed raven. I can see all. Past and Present. Anywhere from anytime. I saw Rhaegar Targaryen,” Daenerys’ head raised at the name of the brother she never knew, “marry Lyanna Stark. Months later Lyanna gave birth to a baby boy. A young Eddard Stark found her just after childbirth, near death and clutching her babe. She told him all.”

From behind them, a man in Northern clothing but with a Southern accent stepped forth. “I spent time in the Citadel and found notes of Rhaegar’s annulment to Elia and his marriage to Lyanna.”

Arya spoke from her spot under the tent. “It took a while but we found the letter intended for Jon by our father explaining everything.”

Sansa concluded their unbelievable story, “Robert’s Rebellion was built on a lie. Robert’s kingship, a lie. The North recognizes no Queen but the Queen in the North whose name is Stark, but we do recognize Daenerys Targaryen’s claim to the throne to be rightful.”

“Then we have no agreement.” Cersei stands, her followers rise after and they prepare to leave. Yet Ser Jaime stays seated, rubbing his forehead before standing abruptly.

“We have an agreement.” Jaime practically shouts.

Cersei lets out a scoff, “What?”

“Your claim to the throne is built on a lie. You think the people are going to support you once they realize this? I killed the mad king for a lie. Yes, he was mad but he was my king. I was his kingsguard. And even if they do, if you don’t offer our forces we will die. If the North doesn’t win against the dead then the dead will come to kill us, and if they do win then the North will come to kill us!” Jaime takes a few steps back.

It low but in the vast openness it echoes, “Do not do this.”

It’s a thinly veiled threat but Jaime does not seem to care. “I will take as many men that I can and send them North. You can keep the cowards.” Jaime takes his leave from her party, moving to stand by Sansa’s guard, Brienne.

Cersei looks between Daenerys and Sansa as if they would help reason with her brother.

With no help, the Lion Queen takes her leave, storming out of the pit and back to her den. Her men follow, collecting the provided shade and tents on their way. A few loyal to Jaime, Daenerys presumes, stay and await their Lord.

Daenerys’ members begin to prepare their march back to the boats, leaving Daenerys and Jon behind with the Northerners.

Daenerys eyes the Northern Queen, discussing things with her siblings before turning her direction. Not only turning her direction but approaching her and Jon as well.

“Your Grace.” Jon speaks first with a bitterness to his tone.

“Jon, I apologize again. But you were gone so long and multiple issues arose and then we hear news that you bend the knee and it just added up to a vote needing to be made.” Sansa puts a consoling hand on her cousin’s shoulder before lowering it and turning to Daenerys. “Your Grace.”

“It would have been nice to have been informed of the change in leadership beforehand. It caught us by surprise.” Daenerys nods a welcome to Sansa.

An unknown stranger approaches Sansa from behind to whisper in her ear. The Northern Queen simply nods her head with a smile.

“Jon, I do believe Ghost has been missing his person.” Sansa smiles as the unknown man retreats down the underground set of stairs Sandor emerged from.

“I miss him as well. Excuse me, Your Grace.” Jon went off to follow the man down the steps.

“Ghost?” Daenerys questioned once the man had left.

“Jon’s direwolf. I’m shocked he never mentioned him. I’m even more shocked he left him at Winterfell.” Sansa waited a moment, hearing barks and soft howls get louder. “Lady, here.”

On que, a large full grown direwolf padded from up the steps to greet Sansa, followed by her two siblings. The wolf reached up to the top of Sansa’s waist, a thinner frame than that of her siblings but still large and foreboding.

Daenerys has lived with dragons for years, yet facing a wolf who would not hesitate to rip her flesh off if she were to cross Sansa terrified her. Drogon and his brothers were raised and trained. The wolf looked like she still had her wildness.

“Daenerys Targaryen, this is Lady.” The wolf sat on her haunches at the sound of her name and Sansa let her hand rest on her head.

“Much smaller than a dragon.” Daenerys tried to make light of her fear.

“But, no less deadly.” Sansa smirked, Daenerys knew that the queen could see her terror. There was no doubt.

Two could play at that game. Her head tilted and raised up, “Drogon!”

Within a moment the beast descended at his mother’s call. Landing behind her with a crash of his tail breaking part of the already crumbling pit.

Sansa hid her fear well, Daenerys only saw the tightening off her jaw. The direwolf stood, bared her teeth and snapped her jaws. This alerted the others, drawing two more equally large wolves to Sansa’s side to snarl at the great beast.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave. Farewell, Sansa Stark.” Daenerys stands on the crook of Drogon’s wing, rising up to mount the dragon. She instructs him up into the air, leaving the Northern Queen on the ground below.

“Farewell, Daenerys Targaryen.”

—

The loud clatter in the kitchen is what makes Daenerys look into the room. Cooks and maids are moving about, preparing dishes, cleaning bowls, washing buckets, among other things. When the staff notices their queen peering inside of the kitchen they stop their movements.

A young lad speaks up from behind a chef, “Do you need something Your Grace?”

“No, no.” Daenerys began to enter the room, wandering around and looking at dishes. The chefs would open a platter to show her what they were making.

The tenth or so chef lifted a cover to reveal a pile of lemon cakes stacked in a tower, only the top four were missing. “My cakes!”

Daenerys heard a loud giggle from behind her. A young girl with silver hair and violet eyes holds three cakes in her hand while swallowing what Dany assumes is the fourth.

“Rhaeya Targaryen-Stark. Come here young lady.” Daenerys smiles, not even trying to sound rude or commanding.

The girl giggles and turns around to run up the stairs behind her, a loud “Oh no!” being heard as she runs away in glee.

Daenerys hands the chef a gold dragon for the cakes, even though the queen doesn’t pay for them ever, before racing after her daughter. The stairs wind up and up to the third floor of the Red Keep, the floor Daenerys had redesigned so the dragons could land and rest. Also, the floor that houses the royal chambers on the far Northern side. She sees a flash of white race off towards the opposite side, trying to make a dash for the chambers.

She chuckles and picks up her pace a bit, laughing as a young wolf pads up to Rhaeya’s side and begins to bark in glee. Daenerys gets to her right as she’s struggling to open the door to Daenerys and Sansa’s chambers. Daenerys holds the door open, Rhaeya looks up to her mother with a giddy smile and thanks her before running off again.

Inside the room, Sansa stands by the windows and deck which looks towards the North while reading parchments. Rhaeya comes bounding in with Daenerys on her trail, the two laughing a loud and making Sansa turn around with a smile on her face.

“Momma! Momma!” Rhaeya goes to the table that the family regularly uses for dinner, lifting herself up to the best of her ability until Daenerys lifts her up for her. “Thank you.”

Her voice is high and childish but Daenerys hears the thank you and picks up how Rhaeya’s giggly tone turns a bit serious. “Your welcome, little _zaldrīzes_.”

Rhaeya spreads the cakes on the table and motions for Sansa to join her with a wild wave of her hand. “I got cakes! I got four!”

Sansa smiles and looks down but then tilts her head with an over dramatic frown.

“No. No. What’s wrong?” Their child looks between her mothers and the cakes with confusion and frustration.

“Nothing darling, only, there’s three cakes not four.” Sansa says with a quick chuckle.

Rhaeya looks down, furrows her brow and the. counts the cakes. One, two, three. She ponders for a moment then shakes her hands in front of Sansa’s face to get her attention. “Oh no, it’s okay. There are four. I just ate one.”

Daenerys and Sansa both break into laughter at their daughter’s antics. They both seat themselves and begin to pick at the lemon cakes. Sansa, instinctively, grabs at the parchment she had previously set down.

“No!” Rhaeya cries out before pulling the parchment out of her mother’s hands and putting it on the floor. “No more! Just cakes.”

Sansa laughs and puts her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just cakes.”

The three sit and speak of the weeks they each had, laughter filling the room as Rhaeya speaks about something she did or saw that sounds absolutely absurd but she _“swears it is a truth.”_ Daenerys looks at Sansa as she explains some political information to Rhaeya, a smile spreading across her face as she watches her wife explain and help their daughter.

To think that four years ago, Daenerys looked across at Sansa seeing her as a random woman from the north but now looks at her and sees the woman who put the stars in the sky. The woman who is the source of all warmth. The Queen of Wolves.

Daenerys never would have said that after the talks between Cersei, Sansa, and herself; that she could predict winning the war, marrying the love of her life, being granted a child by the children of the forest and restoring the Targaryen’s as rulers of Westeros. She would pray for the victory of the Iron Throne but thinks now, if that was the only thing she won, she would be empty. Rhaeya and Sansa are her heart and soul.

“What?” Sansa says with a smile, pulling Daenerys from her thoughts.

Daenerys shakes herself out of her trance, “Nothing.”

“Love, you were staring.”

“You’re just really beautiful.” The two stare at each for a second, their gazes tender.

“Gross.” Rhaeya laughs at her mothers’ affection for each other, making the two queens burst into laughter.

Daenerys grabs the dirtied plates and places them by their door as Sansa lifts Rhaeya up to walk her back to the Dragon Courtyard. Once she’s on the ground, the young pup from earlier comes bounding towards her. Sansa’s own direwolf rises from her slumber in the grass, shaking off her pelt and walking slowly to her person.

Daenerys looks on as Rhaeya plays with her pup, shouting out and laughing. Sansa sitting on a courtyard couch with an aging Lady on her lap. From behind she feels a soft tap on the shoulder.

Two guards and Jaime himself stand behind her. “Your Grace. A raven from Winterfell.”

“Thank you, Ser Jaime.” She smiles and graciously accepts the letter.

“If it’s possible, Your Grace, I will be leaving early. Brienne and I-”

Daenerys’ smile grows brighter. “Yes, the baby. Go help your wife. I’m sure Grey Worm can handle it while you're gone.”

Jaime nods with a hidden smile and proceeds to leave with his men, out of the courtyard. Daenerys smiles. The knowledge that it’s currently peaceful enough that newlyweds are trying for children makes her heart grow. She never wanted to be her father. She hopes her reign outshines his by ten times.

Without delaying she turns to her family, holding up the note with a Direwolf seal on it. “My love, Winterfell writes to you.”

She walks to the courtyard seating area, handing the note to her wife before scratching Lady’s head and sitting on the other side of Sansa’s lap. Rhaeya comes rushing over with Val, the young pup, her arms go up and Daenerys reaches under them to lift her up onto her lap. Val leaps onto the couch next to his mother, nuzzling into the fur of Lady.

“It’s from Jon and Arya. They say Bran has seen something. Something that reminds him of the white walkers. But that’s impossible?” Sansa looks forward with a confused face.

“Do we get to go see Uncle Jon and Auntie Arya?” Rhaeya kicks her legs with excitement, while in the eyes of her mothers they are terrified.

“I guess we do little wolf.” Sansa smiles but then immediately looks to Daenerys in terror. “Rhaeya, love, go play with Val so Ma and I can talk.”

“Okay!” She kicks off of Daenerys’ lap and onto the floor with Val on her heels. They sprint off into the courtyard and around the grass, far from earshot.

“Daenerys. This is, this is impossible. Jon said he killed the Night King himself.” Daenerys immediately wraps her wife in an embrace.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. Your siblings said it was a vision, not a memory. So it isn’t fully true. Let us go to speak with Bran before we worry further.” Daenerys brushed her wife’s hair with her hand, placing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“We’ll leave tonight.” Sansa nods. “I’ll take some men and Rhaeya, and we’ll set out tonight.”

Daenerys hated this. She hated any trip where Sansa would leave on her own or before her. But it was a necessity, Daenerys had to oversee things at the Red Keep so she could ensure the peace would be kept if she went away. Sansa did not have those obligations, nor did Rhaeya. With a heavy sigh she agrees with Sansa.

Sansa stands, Lady rising with her and shouts for her daughter. “Rhaeya, come on darling. Let’s go pick some things out for the trip.” Sansa held out a hand for Rhaeya to grab onto.

“Yeah! Trip!” The young girl shouted as she went to grip her mother’s hand.

Daenerys shakes her head, too many emotions to depict why exactly. Years of peace. Why did she have a bad feeling about this particular trip. Was it because of the possible White Walkers? Was it the distance?

Daenerys gave up questioning and simple rose to go help her girls prepare to leave. Sansa was throwing clothes in cases as Daenerys went up and down, between floors to get a caravan prepared. She calls upon guard after guard to join the company until Sansa comes down to the Great Hall with Rhaeya and the wolves right behind.

Daenerys walks with them out into the main courtyard, helping them place cases and luggage on the back of the carriage. Two guardsmen lifted Lady’s haunches carefully to allow her to get inside with Sansa, Rhaeya and the pup.

At last they were ready to leave. Daenerys looked inside at Rhaeya, a smile on her face as her daughter had fallen asleep already.

“We’ll be okay.” Sansa gripped one of Daenerys’ hands through the small window.

Daenerys plants a kiss on her wife’s hand as she looks from daughter to wife. “I know. I still worry. You could take Rhaegar, if you wish.”

“We will be fine. You’ll meet us in two days. What could happen in two days.” Sansa leaned over to kiss her wife, the two kiss like it’s their first kiss all the time. Daenerys loved it. She loved Sansa.

“I love you.” Sansa says as they part, reading Daenerys’ mind.

Daenerys nods, stands back and watches as the carriage rides off beyond the gates of the Red Keep. “I love you, too.”

—

The next morning, Daenerys woke alone and cold. Sansa truly is the one with the warmth. She only hopes her wife is warm on the trip. The winter had not ended. It was not expected to end for six more years.

The snow would fall, compact, then fall again. It was painstaking to keep roads clear. Sansa knew the North though, she wouldn’t get lost.

Her day was spent with busy work. She discussed with Missandei her absence for a week or two. She spoke with Tyrion, Hand of the Queen, to make sure everything was set. He makes the joke that she could've left last night and all would be well on her return. It didn’t earn a chuckle. She wishes she would have left last night.

Sansa took clothing for her and other small things they may need so Daenerys spent the day locking things up and lazily resting in the grass as her other children would fly by and swoop down to greet their mother.

By evening Daenerys had eaten and done all she needed. She attended the last council meeting she would need to attend before leaving tomorrow. Tyrion and Missandei discussed a border dispute from somewhere in the south but Daenerys had little to no interest. Her mind just wanting to be on Drogon’s back and out to meet her family.

Moments later, Jaime walks in through the meeting. He typically attended them but this one he left midway only to return now. His face was sullen and he holds a note in his hand. No guards followed him. The doors close immediately. All those not on the small council—waterboys, serving girls, maids—left before they shut. His hand trembles as he raises his arm to give over the note.

“Your Grace.” His voice cracks and Daenerys can see his eyes barely beginning to water. She takes the note with urgency.

It’s quiet.

No one speaks.

No one moves.

Daenerys reads the note over. Then over again. Then another time.

And another.

And another.

She reads it until the words burn her eyelids if she closes them. She falls back in her chair the note falling to the table.

Tyrion delicately takes the parchment away from Daenerys and begins to read aloud;

_Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen._

_I have your wolves. A long time ago I asked for the skin of the direwolf beast who bit my son’s arm. I never received my pelt. Surrender the throne back to me and I will have to add two wolf pelts to my collection. Refuse, and the Wolf Queen and Princess’ pelts will burn. There should be a gift coming shortly._

_Cersei Lannister_

“Where is it?” Daenerys’ voice cracks. Her cheeks sting and burn from the tears.

“Your Grace—”

“Where! Is! It!”

Jaime stands aside, “The Great Hall.”

Her steps sound like the rumbling of a great storm brewing, one that the land of the Seven Kingdoms will never recover from. If Cersei wanted the Mad King’s Daughter, she will get the Mad King’s Daughter.

The doors fly open. Ten men stand blocking Daenerys’ view. She can’t prepare herself for what she sees when they step aside.

Lady lays on her side, breathing labored, blood stains her pelt. Her breaths come out as whimpers as she tries to move to the small item next to her.

Val. He lays on his side. His ashen pelt covered in blood. His breathing is nonexistent.

Daenerys leans down to Lady, her hands stroke the fur of the old wolf. She presses a kiss into the wolf’s head and lets the tears fall.

“I will kill them all.” 


	2. Queen takes Pawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! this is a beast of a chapter and I do hope you all really like it. I’m quiet proud of it.

_The hall is lit in a soft light, a gentle flame reaching out to warm all those within its light. It whirls and burns, moving from candle to candle as the entire hall ignites in a soft orange glow. The tables are set, the food is placed, the guests are seated._

_Daenerys revels in the warmth of the fire, her hand reaching out to float over the candle in front. The men below her watch with wonder as she is unburnt by the flame that dances with her palm. As the night progresses the candles are interchanged and re-lit. The hall stays bright with fire and cheer._

_The Northmen, always making a ruckus and wishing to be out in the cold, stay inside for as long as possible as not to disrespect their Queen._

_No, not Daenerys. She’s learned they will never take her as queen. She’s seceded on that notion, no but Sansa Stark. Queen in the North. When Jon returned from the Dragonpit with Daenerys in tow Sansa had already become queen since the Northmen learned of Jon’s betrayal. Daenerys knew the north would be difficult to win, but she never realized that it was already won, just not by her._

_Sansa accepted a proposal of a treaty. The North would not be a part of the Seven Kingdoms any more, but Sansa would allow for all trade treaties and any other connections between them and he South to stay active. She was cunning. Daenerys wanted all seven kingdoms, all those she was destined to have by birth. Until she realized the Targaryens never truly conquered the North._

_When her ancestors destroyed and captured it, they called it a conquering, but that would mean the North had fallen to the Targaryens and their ways. Yet the North never changed, it kept its old gods, it kept its traditions, it was isolated from the customs of the South. The North was it’s own realm and always would be, according the the Starks._

_Daenerys saw the logic Sansa used, the history of the Starks, the Northmen and the First Men all flowing through her argument. So she seceded. Hence the celebration._

_Sansa proposed a feast in honor of the alliance. The Northmen were more than happy to eat their weight in meat for any reason, a feast gave them reason to eat double their weight._

_That’s how Daenerys found herself there, not in the seat of a queen but as an honored guest. She sat to Sansa’s right while the Stark siblings that still lived sat to her left. All but Jon, who since his discovery of his true birth has not seemed to find a proper place._

_Sansa had told him he was always a Stark. Daenerys had told him he would be welcomed as a Targaryen. Both efforts seemed to push him farther away._

_A loud cheer shook Daenerys from her train of thought, her eyes landing on a man who had just been told his wife was pregnant. The entire hall erupted in shouts and hollers. Daenerys could’ve sworn even Sansa smiled._

_The Queen never seemed to smile. Some say it’s because of one terror or another. But Daenerys knows that solemn look, it’s the look of too many terrors all at once._

_As the wolves outside started to howl the hall seemed to empty, the louder the howls the emptier the hall. It must of hit the dead of night before it was just a mere twenty people in the hall. Jon had even left without say._

_Daenerys stood, excused herself with permission from Sansa and took her leave. She didn’t head for her chambers, she went to the castle’s back courtyard where her children rested._

_She nearly left as soon as she saw the three of them sleeping, nested near each other as siblings do, but Drogon rose his head and huffed hot air out of his nostrils in a greeting. She continued her path to them, a gentle hand reaching out to run along their scales as she passed._

_“Quite cold to be out here at night, Your Grace.”_

_Daenerys whirled her head, Drogon lowered his in front of her defensively. When she saw the speaker she patted Drogon to ease him, Sansa had followed her out to the courtyard._

_“A dragon is never cold.” She says it as evenly as possible yet the cold does nip at her skin making her teeth chatter._

_Sansa nods her head. “A dragon may breathe fire but even cold can put one out. Perhaps you should come inside.”_

_Daenerys takes a moment, looking about her. The high moon, the dazzling stars, the fallen snow. All of it adds to a rather cold feeling and yet when she looks at Sansa, all she sees is warmth. When she looks at herself, all she feels is cold. She nods her head in agreement and approaches the Stark, following her back into the castle and through hallways._

_“I haven’t met anyone quite like you, Your Grace.” The words usually feel odd on her tongue yet they seem to slide out with a smooth finish when she’s addressing Sansa. “You have quite the personality. The way you argued the North’s right to stay independent was eloquent, the way you fed your husband to the hounds was merciless, yet you are so tender to those you love. One might call you mad.”_

_“I’m not mad, Your Grace. I’ve been through too much to harbor a cold heart towards everyone. My lady mother was like that as well. Tender to even her enemies in order to keep me and my siblings safe, but ruthless to those who would do harm to us at the same time.” They take a few more turns in silence, weaving their way through the castle._

_“So you’re not mad. Simply intelligent.” Daenerys’ comment was more to herself but it clearly reached Sansa’s ears as she saw a blush rise to her cheeks._

_“Your words are too kind, Your Grace.”_

_“I only speak the truth, Your Grace. The North is lucky to have you as their queen. A queen empowered with both beauty and intelligence is a dangerous woman.” Daenerys continued to follow Sansa, walking past her when Sansa suddenly slowed to a stop._

_“Do you think I’m dangerous, Your Grace?” Sansa seemed genuinely concerned by the comment._

_“I mean no disrespect. I merely mean you have a gift that powerful men and women wished they had. And what about me?” Daenerys knew the last turn took her to her chambers so she let Sansa follow her before stopping at the door._

_“What about you, Your Grace?”_

_“Gods, you must drop the formalities. Please, call me Daenerys. And I mean, do you find me dangerous?” Daenerys stands in front of her door, Sansa looking at her. A mere inch or two separates them in height yet Sansa looks at her like they are on equal ground._

_“I did.”_

_“And now?”_

_“I’m still deciding, but there’s more to you than just fire and conquests. I can see it in your eyes.”_

_Something about that sent a spark right through Daenerys. “What else do you see in my eyes, Sansa?”_

_Sansa’s head leans down a bit. Both queen’s unable to decide whether to stare at each other’s eyes or lips. Daenerys decides on Sansa’s eyes, while Sansa seems to have chosen her lips._

_Sansa’s breath turns heavy and Daenerys leans a bit up, her mouth so close she can feel the ghost of Sansa’s lips and heat on her._

_“Something good. Something,” Sansa shudders, “warm.”_

_Daenerys presses her lips to Sansa’s, the mix of their lips brings a soft heat into Daenerys’ body. A hand grips Daenerys’ hip, soft fingers push into her hip, pressing through the fabric of her clothes and the heat pulses through the material._

_Daenerys nearly falls back against her door as Sansa steps forward._

_Someone’s hand grips the door and the next thing Daenerys knows she’s walking backwards into the bed chambers. Daenerys finds her hands on Sansa’s hips, gathering material in her fist and trying to pull off the dress. When her knees hit the bed’s frame they both pull away. The softness from before long gone and replaced with a primal hunger._

_Daenerys needs Sansa like no one else before, she finally tugs the dress above Sansa’s head and reveals the lovely body underneath. All pale skin and a flat expanse with carvings deeply imprinted. Daenerys’ fingers reach out to trace the scars along Sansa’s body. Sansa’s head lifts up to reveal her neck and Daenerys puts her lips to her stretched tendons. Her fingers dance along scars and half of her wants to kill everyone who’s ever hurt her while the other half wants to make Sansa forget all pain and misery, to just be happy._

_Something in Daenerys snaps because she turns them around, lowering Sansa onto the furs of the bed before tearing off her own attire. Sansa pulls herself up, higher onto the bed as Daenerys kneels over her, like a predator stalking its prey._

_Daenerys runs her hands along the alabaster skin beneath her, dull nails drag up and down as she starts her assault on Sansa’s breasts. The Wolf Queen throws her head back, heavy pants and moans escape her lips and only seem to encourage Daenerys on her quest._

_Her teeth bite down on a nipple and Sansa lets out a strangled gasp. With a predatory smirk, Daenerys marks and nips her way down Sansa’s body to her thighs. She leaves soft kisses along the smooth skin, she waits a moment to make eye contact with Sansa and when their eyes meet she pounces._

_Her tongue eagerly laps at Sansa’s wetness, the girl having been so worked up apparently that her folds already are soaked. Sansa’s back arches slowly, raising inch by inch as Daenerys gets more aggressive. Her teeth go to nip and pull at Sansa’s sweet clit, as if Sansa was leaking ambrosia Daenerys licks and tugs at the sensitive bud. Sansa grips the bed furs as her back arches fully, her screams echoing in the chamber and probably throughout Winterfell._

_When her hand finds quick entry into Sansa she makes sure to draw it out, pushing and brushing against Sansa’s walls, feeling how they clench and tremble. Sansa bites her lip and Daenerys releases the bud between her teeth._

_“Do not be silent, love. I want to hear you.” Sansa only nods in response, Daenerys smirks and goes back to lapping at the bud while her fingers push and pull inside Sansa._

_When Sansa’s walls start throbbing against her fingers and Sansa slams a hand down on the bed, Daenerys smirks. Her lips suck on the bud and her fingers push even deeper, feeling the walls around her clench and hold onto the fingers. She sees Sansa shake and tremble, thrashing as she comes and Daenerys simply licks and licks to help her ride it out._

_“No more. No more.” Sansa tries to reach for Daenerys but she’s just out of reach. Daenerys understands though. She releases the bud, leaving soft kisses where she was harsh before raising and crawling back up Sansa’s body._

_Daenerys leans down to kiss the maiden beneath her, Sansa’s taste coats her mouth and the moan released is a mix of both women._

_“This is not how I intended to conquer the North. But I must admit this is a far more beautiful sight than war.” Daenerys kisses along Sansa’s jaw. Soft, sweet presses that soothe the rapid beating of Sansa’s heart._

_“Do not look so proud. I was not expecting it to be this,” Sansa motioned to the air like it would explain._

_“Intense?” Daenerys whispers in Sansa’s ear, places a nip at her jaw before leaning off of Sansa and onto her side._

_“Yes.” Sansa turns over, the two laying on their sides and facing each other._

_Sansa leans towards Daenerys, a chaste kiss becomes heated until Daenerys feels a soft hand running from her abdomen to her curls below. “You don’t need to.”_

_Sansa responds with rubbing four fingers up and down Daenerys’ folds, collecting wetness and many moans from Daenerys._

_“I may not need to. But it seems you want me to, Your Grace.” Sansa whispers in Daenerys’ ear and Daenerys can only shudder at the term._

_Sansa rolls them so she’s on top of Daenerys with a devilish stare accompanied by kisses upon Daenerys’ neck. She hums in satisfaction as her fingers slide in with ease. “Do you like it when I call you that, Your Grace?”_

_Daenerys nearly whimpers. A dragon does not whimper to a wolf. She might make an exception when Sansa looks at her like that, with her fingers slowly pumping in and out with a thumb attacking her clit. When Sansa fits a third finger in she decides she will definitely make an exception._

_They continue for most of the night. Daenerys wakes with the sun but she can feel how little sleep she got. Her body is sore in the best way but the way the sun cracks through the windows to pull the rest of the world to morning aggravates her._

_She rolls over expecting an empty bed but is met with the most glorious morning sight in the world. Sansa Stark’s sleeping face, barely lit by the morning sun. Daenerys wants to reach out and touch her because it feels unreal, she looks ethereal, she looks god-like. Before her hand even reaches skin the sleeping beauty tosses in her slumber, rolling onto her other side. Daenerys simple smiles, lifts her arms to wrap around Sansa and pulls her close._

_“Mm. Daenerys. We need to wake.” Sansa mumbles, still asleep._

_“The world can wait.” Daenerys places a kiss at the back of Sansa’s neck._

_“Daenerys.”_

_“Daenerys.”_

“Daenerys.”

Her eyes open, filled with rage and fire. She looks to the voices in front of her. Lady lays still on the floor next to the throne, no one has been permitted to touch her since she arrived two weeks ago and was moved next to the throne. Daenerys spent the nights with the wolf in the Great Hall. Left alone to think, her council came in the morning yet she hadn’t officially acknowledged them.

“Good Morning, Your Grace.” Tyrion walks in and as soon as the words spill from his lips he knows the mistake he’s made.

“Is it? I wouldn’t know. My wife and child have been taken. My wife’s companion nearly killed, their guard nowhere to be found, and her siblings are on their way to demand answers. But I do surely hope you all had a good morning.” Daenerys stands from the back-breaking Iron Throne and takes her few steps down where her council has drawn audience. They brought the table of Westeros in from the Small Hall. Notes and parchments lay tossed about as they all find their place at the table.

No one dares speak for fear of a misstep in words. She grows frustrated with the silence. The Small Council will get nowhere like this.

“Speak your concerns now or hold it until after I burn Cersei alive.”

That pulls them from their stupor.

“We shouldn’t act until we know where Cersei is exactly. We can’t go burning the entire country down.” Jaime speaks first.

Daenerys hears him. But all her mind says in response is, _Watch me_.

Tyrion is next. “We should go through their route. See what is left. If we can find how they were attack then we can find who attacked them.”

Daenerys simply nods and moves on to the next.

Jorah is silent for a moment before speaking. “Go to Casterly Rock. Start from the source of Lannister.”

Daenerys looks over to Jaime, he tightens his jaw at the comment by Ser Mormont. He may have given up his right but Daenerys gave him Casterly Rock. She let him keep both rank and title. He wanted none of it but accepted it graciously, thinking of his children. Jorah was proposing to weed out some rat from within and that would mean someone from the Rock betrayed Jaime, betrayed the true Lannisters.

Grey Worm has no comment, Missandei agrees with Tyrion. Daenerys just stares at the board.

“Jaime will look into whatever may be happening at Casterly Rock. You may have twenty guards men plus your own usually guard. Tyrion, you and Bron will go through the Kingsroad until you find where they went missing. Take forty men. That’s all.” Daenerys turned away, walking back up the steps and to Lady. “And if anyone is to find them before us, let it be known there is a hundred gold dragons for my family and another hundred for the head of Cersei Lannister.”

Without another word, Daenerys hears them all collect their things and men come in to take the table back. She kneels down next to Lady, the wolf’s breathing has slightly improved but she’s still not at the strength to be moved up stairs.

“I’m so sorry, my darling.” She has the image of Val’s small body stuck in her mind, being boxed away, to be sent to Winterfell where his ancestors lay. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll find them. I will do whatever it takes. But you need to be strong. Sansa needs you, as do I. Now more than ever.”

The old wolf turns her head at Sansa’s name, her eyes heavy and her breathing slow. Daenerys puts a hand to Lady’s muzzle, stroking her softly. “Be strong.”

Daenerys knows she’s saying it more to herself than to Lady but she truly does need the wolf. The wolf who once scared her but has now become a beacon of safety, having foughten many assailants intending to harm her beloved.

“Your Grace.” It’s a quiet voice but it echoes within the empty hall.

“Speak.” Her voice is stern, but so close to the verge of breakage.

“The Starks have arrived.”

She waves him off, her hand resting back on Lady’s snout. “Maybe your siblings will help you gain your strength. Do not leave us yet.” She presses another kiss to Lady’s forehead before standing and making her way to the entrance of the Red Keep.

—

As the Great Hall’s doors swing open the three beasts bound into the room, immediately going for their sister. Nymeria licks at Lady’s wounds, Summer paws at her and Ghost lays directly in front of her to watch her.

Jon storms in through the Great Hall. Arya right beside him. The two look ready to burn the entire country to the ground. All Daenerys can do is sit atop her throne, hands clasped, eyes closed and wait.

"You just let them take her!" Jon's the first to shout.

"Why aren't you out searching for her now?" Arya's shout hurts the most.

"Answer!" Jon shouts again.

Daenerys stands from her seat. The action terrifying. It rattles the entire Great Hall. The entire Red keep. "I did not let them take her. I was tricked. I will burn villages to the ground. I will break open the world. I will raise a new army of the undead if I must. I will do everything in my power and more to get her back. To get them, both back! I swear to the old gods and the new, to the Lord of Light, to any fucking person who hears me, that I will not stop until the woman I love is back to me. I will defy gods if I must, but I will save her."

Her voice is quiet. But it’s the whisper of death that shakes a person to their very core.

Daenerys stands, eye to eye with Jon. Both looking at each other with a fire lit behind their eyes. Arya grips him by the arm and with a tug he pulls back, falling into a less aggressive posture.

“What can we do?” Arya asks with concern in her voice.

“I have nearly everyone out looking for them. They have the best supplies and we’ve sent word to all free cities as well.” Daenerys turns, walks back to the throne but stops short of it, standing above and watching the direwolves lay down with their injured sister. Her heart pulls and aches for Sansa. For Rhaeya. For warmth.

“We heard Tyrion is out on the Kingsroad looking for them. Sansa would never have taken the Kingsroad to Winterfell. We should be checking the northern routes.” The voice comes from Bran as he wheels himself into the hall.

“You left Winterfell without a Stark?” Daenerys could see Sansa raging at the thought and it pained her to simply imagine her wife bickering with her siblings, safe.

“Not exactly.” Arya speaks. Daenerys cocks her head in confusion. “Gendry and I were wed about two moons ago. He’s seeing over until our return.”

Daenerys looks at her in shock. “Why was I not informed? What was Sansa not informed? We could have celebrated.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “We didn’t even know until we were preparing to leave and Arya demanded to join.”

Daenerys nearly laughs, that sounds exactly like what Arya would do. The time for laughter is later. She decides a nod is most appropriate.

Bran clears his throat. “The Northeast trail off of the Kingsroad should be where we start our search.”

Daenerys knows the answer but the questions slips from her mouth before she can stop it, “And you can’t just find them through your Three Eyed Raven connection.”

“I wish I could, but you already know that’s not how it works Daenerys.” Bran motions and Summer is up, bounding over to him and at his side but they don’t leave without a soft whimper from Summer towards his sister.

Daenerys stands in silence. Nearly on the brink of breaking. “Was Val buried?”

Arya responds with a solemn nod. “Next to Greywind and Shaggydog.”

Jon takes his leave in silence. Daenerys seems him look at Ghost but he lets his wolf stay with his sister. Daenerys looks to Lady, Nymeria’s head rests on her and she lays against her sister while Ghost’s head is lowered with his ears back as he watches the two in silence. She wants to break out and scream. She wants to burn everything. She’s never felt so helpless.

“We’ll find them, Daenerys.” Arya says and goes up to Nymeria to sit with the wolves. Daenerys hopes she’s right. She can’t take this much longer.

—

They find the shattered remains of shields, spears and tattered banners. A wagon of supplies has a broken wheel, the contents spilling from its fallen side. The food already rotted and old by the smell of it, the crows pick at four or five carcasses. None seem to be wearing the Targaryen-Stark colors. She had been so focused on her family she forgot to stop to consider other families, the hundred or so who have been without a father or brother or husband for the past two weeks.

It makes her skin boil. She stays atop her silver, walking up and down the wreckage along with Arya and Jon. The wolves at their feet. Lady still rest back at the Red Keep, she hopes the two days she has been gone has not worsened her condition.

Her horse snorts and back steps as she approaches the end of the wreckage. She holds the reins but the horse just snorts and rears her head.

“Easy girl. Easy.” She pats the mare’s neck, soothing the animal. Below she sees why the horse is skittish.

Spikes, a thousand or so, scattered amongst the grown and covered by the fresh snow of winter. She lets her horse move freely, seeing where the spooked creature would be forced to go if they kept moving.

“Arya. Here.” Daenerys calls over her shoulder as her horse cuts to the side and into the thickness of trees. The snow falls from leaves as their presence shakes the ground. The wolves run through the trees beneath them, a deep growl and Nymeria bolts, followed by Ghost tight on her heels.

“Food?” Daenerys questions with confusion.

“Not at that speed. Ya!” Arya squeezes her legs a bit to get her horse in gear. Daenery follows suit, catching up to the young Stark and a few feet behind the racing wolves.

The take a turn and then stop at a clearing. Daenerys walk her horse out into the open, Arya behind. Jon comes soon and walks along the outer rim of the field.

Daenerys looks down, fresh snow covers more damage. A Targaryen banner flaps alone in the wind, the only sign that this was from the same attack. Crows pick beneath the snow and pull up flesh. Daenerys closes her eyes before asking Jon to go get the guards. She may not have found her family but these men deserved to go home to theirs.

She turns her horse back to direction they entered, watching as her men pull their brothers from the snow. She starts to head back until she hears a shout from across the field.

“Ay! Ay!” A man in Targaryen red and Stark grey comes tumbling from the woods. His hand clutches his abdomen as he falters in the snow.

Daenerys turns her silver and races off to the other end of the field. “Who are you?”

The man rolls onto his back from on the snow. Daenerys dismounts, gripping the water pouch from her saddle to give to the man.

“I’m– I’m– Daniel Stone.” He greedily laps at the water as it falls to his lips. “Your Grace. I’m– I’m– sorry. They took– They took them.”

Daenerys nods, she moves back as her guard comes and lifts the man to his feet, supporting his weight on their shoulders. They take him to the cart of dead men but allow him to sit with the cart driver.

Daenerys remounts, trots back over to Arya and they head back through the forest and onto the road. Arya looks upon Daenerys’ fallen face and sighs.

“We will find them. I promise you that.” Arya sounds so certain but Daenerys has given up on promises. She was promised many things and none ever turned out they way they were meant to.

“Your Grace.” A rider approaches with a roll of felt in his hands. He presents it and awaits her command.

She unravels it. The twin towers of dead House Frey stares back at her. “Arya, I thought you ended the Frey line.”

Arya stutters, for the first time Daenerys has known her, she’s confused. “I thought I did. All of them were there. I counted. I made sure of it.”

“We’ll figure it out another time but for now. We have our next destination. We head to the Twins.” Daenerys looks on, towards the path they will soon follow with a heavy heart and a hope for her love.

—

_Two Weeks Ago_

Her head thrashes. Her legs kick out. She screams but it’s muffled. The cloth in her mouth taste like her own blood. She can’t see. All she wants is Rhaeya. Rhaeya and Daenerys. She prays to the old gods that her daughter is okay.

She manages to hit something, or someone, with a thrashing foot but it simply aggravates them. A foot presses into her knee and she screams out in pain as she’s tossed to the ground.

She manages to lay still for a moment, long enough that they think she’s calmed down so the lift the bag from her head. It’s bright. Too bright. She squints to try and see in front of her. The walls are made of wood, the floor feels damp, her ears are ringing from the force of impact that made her black out.

She finally adjusts to the blinding light and she can see clearer, she can see the shape of the walls curving up, she can see the large wooden poles holding up the ceiling. She can feel the way the room sways. She can smell the fish.

“Finally. Awake.” The voice is familiar, an old type of familiarity.

She turns and behind her, dawned in a black dress with golden stitching that makes small patterned lions and a thin crown made of iron instead of gold, stands Cersei Lannister with a man unfamiliar to her.

Sansa wants to scream out. She’s probably miles from the closest land mass and that means even farther from Daenerys than she thought. She could be half way across the globe for all she knows.

Cersei stands with her hands clasped in front of her, a sadistic kind if smirk on her face. “If I would’ve known that you and that little dragon bitch were going to win that fucking war, I would’ve killed you right then and there in that Dragonpit. Even without knowing, I should’ve done it. Not only would I have won, but I would have ended the Targaryen line for good.”

Jon’s still a Targaryen. Sansa wants to spit the words at Cersei like venom. All she gets out is a muffled yell.

“I’d hold my tongue if I were you. I mean, your actions will not only hurt you but they’ll hurt the people you love.” Cersei looks forward and out of the cabin on the other end of the ship walks a man gripping Rhaeya by her arm as she tries to wriggle free.

Sansa’s eyes fill with tears. Her voice muffled as she shouts and hollers at Cersei, swearing to all gods that she will kill her if she touches her child.

“I’ll let you see her. I’ll even let you be ungagged and unbound in that lovely little room. But first, you are going to help me win my throne back.” Cersei motions and the next thing Sansa knows, another fist swings in her left field of view and she’s falling to the ground, Rhaeya’s form becomes blurry but Sansa can hear her screams and cries. She can hear her call out in Valyrian and the common tongue. It’s the last thing she hears before everything goes black again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always find me on tumblr! 
> 
> as of 10/21 im @ amayajwe


	3. queen takes knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been well over a fucking year since this fic was updated. im sorry for the delay but without further ado, chapter 3 of rules of the game. 
> 
> so since this is an au some shit is different than the show and novel since they havent even gotten to after the war for the iron throne. hopefully its clear. if you have questions for me feel free to ask. 
> 
> enjoy <3

_ “I do not understand.” Sansa’s voice is soft as she speaks to Daenerys.  _

 

_ Daenerys stands outside of Dragonstone, speaking with her advisors and Sansa. She doesn’t know how to explain it any different than she already has but the way Sansa’s looking at her breaks her heart. She dismisses the rest of her advisors and walks with Sansa along the coast of Dragonstone, the high cliffs are assaulted by the crashing waves beneath them but it does nothing to the two queens.  _

 

_ “I need you to go back to the North.” Daenerys says again but it does nothing to quench Sansa’s confusion.  _

 

_ “Daenerys, what is going on? Did I do something?” Her voice broke and Daenerys could feel her own resolve cracking with Sansa’s voice.  _

 

_ “No. Gods, no. You just don’t belong here.” Daenerys spits it out with as much faux hatred as she can muster.  _

 

_ “Arya is over seeing the North while I’m here. You were the one who invited me after that night in Winterfell.” Sansa pleads, stopping there walk as she refuses to go any further. _

 

_ “Sansa, please.” Daenerys’ voice is barely a whisper. _

 

_ “I just need a reason. Give me one reason.” Sansa fights her every inch of the way, she loves it, that’s the reason. _

 

_ “Our night in Winterfell was a mistake.” _

 

_ “Daenery-” _

 

_ Daenerys raises a hand to the queen so she can continue, “I can’t afford to have any weaknesses, not while Cersei is still alive and fighting against us. We may have won the war for life but she is still atop a throne that does not belong to her.”  _

 

_ “So you would call our night a mistake because it made you weak?” Sasna inquires. _

 

_ “I can’t love anyone, not while war is happening.” Daenerys snaps as she turns to face Sansa. Sansa, whose face is pale and eyes reddened by tears.  _

 

_ “Love is no weakness. Love is a gift. Love is something that is worth every pain and torment that comes with it. If I had loved during the War of Five Kings or any time I was in King’s Landing, I might not have been as weak as I was. I was broken and beaten and sold. But I was never loved, no one loved me then so I loved no one in return. I was alone.” Sansa’s tears fall softly as she speaks. “But I love now, and I would rather fight for love and be broken than have no love and break for no reason.”  _

 

_ Daenerys can’t take it. She steps forward, a hand clutches Sansa’s cheek and another goes to her hip. She brings Sansa’s head down a bit so they can connect in a kiss. Her lips are soft against Sansa and she can feel the sting of Sansa’s falling tears.  _

 

_ “I love you. I cannot lose you.” Daenerys says with her own eyes filling with tears. _

 

_ “Then do not push me away.”  _

 

She wishes now of all times that she pushed. The tent is cold, and it’s not due to the persistent howling winds outside. She sits in the middle of the fur blankets that work as a floor. With all her might she holds in the sobs she so desperately wants to let loose. 

 

When the tent flaps open she’s grateful for the resolve she has built, not wanting the others to see her in such a state. She looks up to see a panting Jaime, helmet in hand and his other hand on his hip in exhaustion. She raises her brows in expectation but he simply holds a hand up with a single finger, needing to catch his breath. 

 

“Casterly Rock has had no word of Cersei but a few of our ranks have thinned, those still loyal to me say they were offered a reward should they return to her side. Apparently, some did not feel that the Lannister army losing rank as Royal army was appropriate.” He finally gasps in another breath of air as he finishes.

 

He turns to lean on a pole as others arrive into the tent. Tyrion comes forth and stands to the side, his lips curled in with a nervous look about him. 

 

“Cersei would never hurt Rhaeya. She doesn’t hurt children.” Jaime’s nobility rang throughout the Great Hall. Daenerys’ advisors had gathered to congregate and devise a plan, Jaime being the only one still adamant about Cersei having some heart.

 

Tyrion shook his head in disagreement. He may not have loved Cersei, but he knew her. “Since she lost her own children, she sees no age. Guilt is guilt to her, and anyone from House Targaryen or House Stark is guilty.”

  
  
Jaime seemed baffled, “Rhaeya’s yet to have her fifth name day.”

  
  
“Rhaegar’s young son had barely been a year born before the Mountain smashed his head in.” Tyrion sighed. “As noble as you may be in not harming children, dear brother, Cersei is not the same woman we knew as kids. I would not put it past her to hurt a child in name of retaking the throne.”

  
  
“Send word to every bannermen. Every house. Loyal or not. The first to bring me, my family, safely shall have anything they desire.” Daenerys spoke above the ruckus, standing from the floor, she walks past them through the tent flap.

  
  
Jaime’s interjection stops her momentarily. “Anything?”

  
  
“Anything. All our gold. All our land.” She begins to leave again, then stops. Over her shoulder, she says with all authority she can muster, “I will give them the throne if I must.”

 

She doesn’t care for Tyrion’s shout about thinking through, nor does she care for Jaime yelling at her to come back. Daenerys walks through the camp, ignoring soldiers’ glances and the chilling wind that bites at her skin. She walk until she’s on the outskirts of the camp, on top of the hill that serves as cover for their camp from the Twins. The flag of Tully flies over the Twins, guards patrolling outside and people coming in and out of the gates. 

 

“Should we not just announce our presence, the Tully’s are part of your family by law and blood. They deserve to know one of their own is lost.” Jon’s voice rises from behind Daenerys. 

 

She takes a deep breath and looks over her shoulder to see him approach. “I would have them think we came in few numbers, not an army at their gates demanding answers.”

 

“You did not need to bring an army-”

 

“I will not be caught outnumbered should we happen upon Cersei and my family.” Daenerys snaps, she can see Jon’s want to challenge in the way his jaw stiffens but she has no time for this. 

 

“You could bluff.” He calls before she can fully leave him on the hill.

 

Daenerys shakes her head and walks closer to him in challenge, “I will not bluff when the risk is the life of my family. You may be comfortable gambling them but I am not. Am I clear Lord Commander Stark?”

 

She doesn’t wait for his response. She turns on her heel and walks back to the camp, around the tents and through to the small makeshift stables that is bustling with squires tacking and readying the horses. Seven in total, Jon and Daenerys with Tyrion and Jaime then three knights on their tail. Arya already made way inside last night. 

 

Daenerys mounts her white mare, the two molding together as one as they do every time she mounts the horse. The horse whips her head in acknowledgement of Daenerys. Daenerys lightly pats the horses neck as she waits for the men to mount. As soon as Jaime is up Daenerys takes off, not waiting for the knights to mount or be ready. The sooner she gets answers the sooner her wife and daughter are back and safe. 

 

They follow the most open trail, Daenerys about ten horse lengths ahead of the rest. Her eyes flit through the trees and bushes before they break from the light woods and into the damp grass fields. The horses clomp through mud, each step they sink a bit deeper into it as they make their way to the front of the gates. Daenerys is first to the gate, hood obscuring her face and no marking of her house or title. Her crown somewhere thrown in her tent due to frustration. The others wear cloaks and capes to hide any prominent markings of their houses and rank. 

 

The guard at the gate does his job well enough, “Hold in the name of Emersen Tully, Son of Edmure and Lord of the Twins.”

 

His partners stand in front of the bath, spears barring their path while another guard approaches to inspect the group. The group stays still as they take account of the group and possessions.

 

“Not tradesmen, not farmers. State your name and business or leave.” The original guard’s hand slips to his sword.

 

For the first time since the incident happened Daenerys remembers her tone, keeping her voice low and soft. “Daenerys of the House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady of the Five Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I request an audience with your Lord as, quietly as possible.”

 

She waves her hand and one of the knights dismounts, a small coin purse in his hand that he hands to the guards. “But if anyone asks, we are travelers seeking shelter because we seek to start a farm in the riverlands but have little food and money.” She coughs weakly into her fist before looking at the guard.

 

He eyes the bag and the queen then nods his head. “Well, weary travelers, might I escort you to The Twins’ best tavern?”

 

Daenerys slowly nods her head and waits for the guard to go and speak with his men, each nodding as they take a few pieces of gold from the satchel. The guard pockets the rest and as the other guards part for them he walks forward to a small fence where six horses are tied down. He mounts one, waiting for another guard to untie the horse before he clicks his teeth to get everyone’s attention.

 

Daenerys follows suit, nodding her head to the men at the gate and adjusting her hood to cover her face more. Jon and Jaime ride to her side, each one stiff in their stance as they scan the streets that they make their way through. The guard slows down to keep pace with their group. They pass the taverns and the houses, the stables and blacksmiths, through to the central of the towns and then to the main building of The Twins.

 

Daenerys keeps her head low as people look to the group, her knights and other companions don’t seem to care if they’re spotted but she would prefer to keep her presence as much of a secret as possible.

 

They come to a stop outside the main castle structure, the guard dismounts and calls forth a handful of squires. He points to their group and then motions for their group to follow him. They each dismount and hand off their horse to the squires. She nods her head in appreciation before walking forward to join the guard. The front door is closed with four guards on post. 

 

“I have travellers in need of audience with Lord Tully.” He shakes the small coin purse from before and they nod.

 

Jon leans over to Daenerys, “Should we be concerned with how normal they behave around bribery?”

 

The guard motions for them to follow and they walk through the doors unscathed. The guard stops for a moment, allowing the doors to close and they stand in the main foyer of the keep. 

 

“We never take bribes, we are loyal to Emersen Tully. Which is why I will tell him of the bribe but explain its importance.” The guard nods his head and then continues onward.

 

“Thank you, uh-”

 

“Captain Erenford. Rolan Erenford.” The captain lowers his head in a half bow to Jon.

 

Daenerys can’t help but let a small smirk slip at Jon being metaphorically shown up by this man’s bluntness. She continues forward, walking closer to the guard than before with a deeper sense of protection. 

 

They walk through a few halls until they start to hear the laughter of a child and Daenerys’ heart clenches at the way the child shouts in joy. Her hands clench and she bites the inside of her lip as the child’s laugh echoes through the halls. She feels a soft hand on her shoulder and she sees Jaime by her side, his touch working as a lifeline so she does not get lost in her pain. 

 

They finally enter the great hall of The Twins. From what Daenerys has heard of what The Twins was like during the Frey’s reign the Tully’s have made the keep much more comfortable. The room is not crowded with women along the walls, hiding in fear. The candles lit make the room feel warm and welcoming. The man on the dais plays with a small child, something Walder would never have done and it feels like a home and not an old man’s playground.

 

“Captain.” A man behind the throne on the dais speaks up, his eyes flitting from the child on Emersen Tully’s lap to the group now entering. 

 

The man on the throne, Emersen Tully, looks up with a smile still on his face. The child follows Emersen’s eyes and looks to the group with a growing teethless smile. “Captain, what seems to be the matter?”

 

“My Lord, Her Highness Daenerys Targaryen.” He bows fully, dropping to his knee even as Emersen stands from the throne. The child is in his arms and gripping at his shoulders to stay close.

 

“Your Grace.” His voice is in chaos, shock and confusion running through his words. “I- I didn’t realize we were being graced with your presence. I am so sorry we did not meet you at the gates. I-”

 

Daenerys raises a hand as she pulls her hood back, the rest of her party follows and they are revealed to Emersen Tully. He bows to a knee, careful with the babe in his arm. The man behind him stands still behind the throne. Daenerys doesn’t miss the hissed command.

 

“Damen, kneel.” Emersen hisses.

 

Daenerys shakes her head. “There is no need, please stand. Sadly, we come with bad tidings.” 

 

Emersen nods his head as he stands, he turns to Damen who approaches and places his hand around Emersen’s waist. They whisper something to each other until Damen takes the child and kisses Emersen’s cheek. Damen walks down from the dais and to a side door. He takes the child’s hand and waves to the group with it, earning a chuckle from the group but a stiff jaw from Daenerys. He leaves with that, closing the door and leaving them in the hall with Emersen.

 

“Lord Emersen, there has been an act of treason.” Jaime begins, taking the lead before Daenerys can unleash a whirlwind of hell upon the hall.

 

Emersen sits in his throne with a hand on his chin in contemplation. “You don’t believe it was me, do you? I- I would never betray you Daenerys. You gave my family back Riverrun and The Twins and the Riverlands. We are indebted to you for all of time.”

 

“No, I don’t believe it was you.” Daenerys sighs heavily, pushing her emotions and pain inside a box while she speaks. “The attack was on my family. A forged letter from Winterfell was sent to us leading to my wife and daughter leaving King’s Landing to go home. The next day,” Daenerys chokes as she remembers the blood around Lady and the blood staining the letter. “Cersei had sent a letter and a warning that I must give her the throne or she will kill me family.” She was on the verge of breaking.

 

“We investigated.” She prays to the gods, old and new, as a thanks for Jon stepping in. “There party was attacked and destroyed, men slaughtered. The only clue of who was responsible besides Cersei’s message were tattered remains of flags from House Frey.”

 

Emersen sits forward, his elbows on his knees as he takes in the news. “House Frey was destroyed, your sister in law saw to that herself. We made sure there were no more when we came for the Twins as well. But..”

 

A guard comes running through the hall, nearly slamming into Captain Erenford and one of Daenerys’ knights. “My Lord.” He takes a deep breath, nearly hyperventilating in the spot as he tries to relay his messgae. “My Lord. Lord Emersen. My Lord.”

 

“Spit it out!” Captain Erenford roars from the guard’s side.

 

“Frey banners. Siege engines. Hundred yards from the gate. Rider with terms of surrender.” He breathes out before collapsing to his knees and holding his chest.

 

“Captain. Rally the troops.” Emersen stands and walks down his dais and to the group. “Your Highness please come with me.”

 

Daenerys nods her head. “Jaime, Jon, take the knights with you and see where you can help. Tyrion come with me.”

 

Jaime and Jon are hesitant at first but when they see Daenerys following Emersen without waiting for them they take off to follow the captain. Daenerys follows Emersen who calls for his squire and a young boy comes running with armor overflowing in his hands and a sword under his chin.

 

The squire holds out pieces of armor one by one as Emersen puts each one on and it slows them down but they eventually make it to the ramparts, overlooking the fields in front of The Twins. Hundred yards away is a large army, with at least two thousand troops and fifty siege engines. Catapults, siege towers and war wagons. While the poorly made banner of House Frey fly high the army is a swarm of gold and red, lions adorning the siege weapons. She turns to look for Jaime but finds no sign of him on the ramparts. 

 

“Before we were interrupted what were you going to say.” Daenerys turns to Emersen who is fully armored and ready for a fight.

 

Emersen’s joyful and positive demeanor of when they arrived has fallen and he now presents as a battle hardened warrior though he has yet to see war first hand. “A few weeks ago. A boy came, said his mother was a Frey and he was entitled to some piece of the Twins. We had no proof of this, his mother died during the war with the walkers and his father abandoned him. With no proof and only having his mother’s side be possibly Frey, he had no claim to the Twins. So we sent him on his way.”

 

“His name.” Daenerys demands.

 

Emersen looks at her, “Walder. Says his father picked it. But there were dozens of Walders and with no proof of his heritage..”

 

Daenerys raises a hand to his shoulder in understanding. She turns again to the squire who is still standing by Emersen’s side. 

 

“Could you bring me to the rider who waits to discuss terms of surrender?” Daenerys speaks as softly as possible, the boy’s face already a canvas of terror and fear. 

 

He nods his head hesitantly but then remembers his place and looks to Emersen who simply gives one stiff nod and looks back to the fields beyond the walls. The boy starts to push through archers and crossbow men as they weave and work their way through the halls and stairways of the keep and town walls. Daenerys finds herself redawning her hood as she tries to keep track of the boy. He’s fast. 

 

She finally makes it back to the courtyard and the boy motions for her to follow farther. Going to along the wall to the main towers that serve as watchtowers of the gate. He stops at the door before bowing politely and running off to the ramparts again to sere his lord. She opens the door, standing inside are the guards from before and one man sitting comfortably at a table with mead and food. Her hands fall in front of her, clasping each other as she gains the rooms attention with a soft clearing of her throat. 

 

“Your Highness.” The words stumble out of his mouth and the rest of the guards turn to bow before her. The man at the table just waves his hand with a shit eating grin.

 

Daenerys walks forward, taking a seat across from the man at the table. The guards look on with confusion and when Daenerys waves them off they each take a stand at a corners of the room. 

 

“Who are you?” Daenerys asks calmly, flattening her outfit and crossing her legs. 

 

He looks up from the food, downs a mouthful of mead and slams the mug down. “Well Your Highness,” He lets out a half burp as he speaks, “I am Aldo Hill. I serve the rightful Lord of The Twins, Walder Frey the seventieth of his name most likely.” Another burp and he goes back for his mead.

 

“A bastard from the Rock. Sired by a Lannister most likely, meaning if anything you should be loyal to the Lord of the Rock.” Daenerys starts to run her thumbs over each other in circles.

 

“Lady of the Rock and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” Aldo glares at her from over his mug.

 

“There are Five Kingdoms, you must have been living under the Rock for the past three years.” Daenerys jaw tightens and she grinds her teeth together.

 

“Only a queen can relinquish and annex lands of the Kingdoms.” Aldo slams his fist into the table.

 

Daenerys smirks, “A bastard with a high education and understanding of Westeros law. So definitely in contact with Cersei because she cannot stand anyone without some form of education and deductive reasoning but the manners of a bandit because she doesn’t want anyone to get above her. She keeps her puppets just out of reach of the power they want. Then she dangles the power you crave just in front of you, thinking you can have it but you never get it.”

 

Aldo slams his fist again and stands from his chair, the guards around them draw their swords ready to fight. Daenerys raises her hand and ushers them to lower their weapons. One by one the guards sheath their swords. She leans back in the chair as Aldo takes deep breaths of anger.

 

“I am here for Emersen to surrender The Twins or to return to Lord Frey and begin the siege.” He stands straight up, pushing the food and mead away, and makes for the exit.

 

“Take me to Lord Frey.” Daenerys stands as he passes her. “I need to speak with him.”

 

Aldo snorts and throws his head back in laughter. “Why would I do that?”

 

“Not only am I your queen, but I am the Queen of the Five Kingdoms. The lands have found prosperity and peace during my reign. The houses would rally to their queen in order to maintain that peace. Your  _ lord _ will not last the week.” Daenerys pushes past him and opens the door. 

 

As she walks out and away from the wall watchtower she hears a shout calling to her, “FIne! Just get a fucking horse and hurry.”

 

Daenerys smiles and nods her head. 

 

—

 

The campment of Walder Frey’s siege is horrendous. The men are in chaos, fighting with each other, some too drunk to stand upright, others are face first in the mud fast asleep and its nearly noon. Daenerys ignores the whistles and howls of men drunker than Robert Baratheon. Aldo leads her through the mess of a camp, weaving through half posted tents and loose horses. She rolls her eyes when she sees three pigs happily waddling through the muck.

 

The closer to the lord’s tent they get the cleaner it is, but not by much. The lord’s tent is fully constructed and posted upward, it’s on the only full patch of grass found in this field and it proudly waves a poorly made Frey banner from the small pole in the center. 

 

Daenerys dismounts and follows in Aldo who is greeted cheerfully. “Aldo! Did they surrender? Do I have my home back? Come, have some mead!”

 

Daenerys walks from behind Aldo, hands in front of her and her face stoic. The clang of a pitcher rings out as Walder drops the mead pitcher and stumbles over his own feet when he sees Daenerys.

 

“Your Highness.” He shakes his head. “No, you’re the false queen you get no formalities here.” He wags his finger like he’s making that decision as of now.

 

“My Lord, Daenerys Targeryen wishes to speak to you.” Aldo bows and then exits the tent without another word.

 

“The great false queen wishes to speak to me! Well I am honored!” He does a poor bow, tipping over his mead cup and it spills on the furs below him. “Shit.”

 

Daenerys rolls her eyes, her left hand reaches into her sleeve as she feels the hilt of Aldo’s dagger she lifted off him. “You seem to think you have a claim over The Twins.” 

 

“I am a Frey! It is my gods given right!” Walder shouts as he sits in a wooden chair with cushions littering it,  _ certainly lazy like his family if he is a Frey. _

 

Daenerys’ face darkens and she feels the heat of her dragon heritage rising from deep beneath. “You have no claim! You are a false Frey! You expect me to believe that you come to claim The Twins because your  _ father _ was a Frey! But you never met your father! You had three years to come forth, if anything you should have come to King’s Landing immediately after my victory and pledge allegiance to the throne. You would have your Twins if that is what you wanted. But no! You come three years late, ever your grandfather’s grandchild I suppose.”

 

“You cannot talk to me like-”

 

“I am The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regnant of the Five Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons! You will sit and be silent! I have an army of thousands strong, your men out there will not survive the week. Should you even care for those men then you will listen and listen well.” Daenerys’ eyes burn with fire. “You are a pawn in Cersei Lannister’s game, a game she lost long ago and she is simply using each pawn as a delay for the inevitable checkmate of this chess match. She is delaying the inevitable. So you will explain everything to me this instant, starting with your true name and where the seven hells my family is, or so help me I will burn you alive and feed you to my children, I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

 

Walder’s pants have turned a slightly darker color starting from his crotch and spreading downward. Daenerys’ fire rages on but she remains silent and waits. He opens his mouth once, twice, three times before closing it and taking a drink of the rest of his mead.

 

“My- My- My name is Walder Rivers, I am a bastard child of some man but my mother always told me it was a Frey man. Cersei came to me after the Battle for King’s Landing. She claimed that she knew my father, a proud Frey man and she wanted me to be restored to my house’s keep and claim. She said all I had to do was attack a caravan but keep the main carriage fine and take the cart to Seagard then she would give me the power to retake The Twins.” Walder Rivers takes heavy breaths of terror with each sentence, his body shaking with fear. 

 

His answer did not quench her fire but it soothed for a moment. She takes a step back but Walder flinches at her movement. “Where in Seagard?”

 

“The docks. I brought the carriage to the docks and gave it to Captain Paxtan Graves. His ship is The Grave Keeper.” He finishes his mead before breaking down into sobs. “I’m so sorry, please, Your Majesty, mercy. Grant me mercy.”

 

As he drops to his knees in front of her Daenerys turns her head up and walks for the tent flap to leave, “You will leave these lands, you will give up your possible claim. I gifted the Tullys The Twins for the horrors they have seen and endured. The Freys did a heinous action and I will see the house dead. Do I make myself clear?”

 

Walder nods his head and sniffles as Daenerys leaves him in his tent. Outside the tent Aldo is pacing back and forth, gnawing on his nails as he waits. Daenerys looks him in the eye and mounts her horse. He darts into the tent and she can hear muffles and shouts but she cares for none of it. She squeezes at the horse’s sides and with a shout she is racing through the camp and heading back to The Twins. 

 

On her return the gates open immediately, Emersen and her party are waiting with arms crossed. She dismounts and hands the horse off to a squire who approaches. She walks up to the group and takes a deep breath before putting her hands out, waiting for the barrage of objections.

 

“What in the seven hells were you thinking!”

 

“You went alone! You could have died!”

 

“Were you drunk? I’ve done nothing that stupid while I was drunk so congratulations!”

 

“I did not allow you to speak terms with my enemy.”

 

At that Daenerys turns her stiff head to Emersen, her fire stoking itself once again. “Anyone threatening peace of the Five Kingdoms is my enemy by default. Not only that, but this man attacked my wife and daughter’s caravan for a sworn enemy of the kingdom. You are also very welcome because he is no longer a threat and he will be leaving the entirety of the Riverlands and giving up his claim to The Twins. So I expect you to know your place Lord Tully and thank your Queen.”

 

Everyone looks at their hands and feet, avoiding Daenerys or Emersen’s gaze. He takes a heavy breath, raising his hands to his shoulders and then drawing them down as to wipe away the anger. Daenerys nods when he bows in gratitude. She turns to the rest of her party, each of whom bows their head in respect as Daenerys passes a glance over them. 

 

“Arya!” She shouts into the sky.

 

A guard from the wall turns towards them, begins to pull off their armor before their face is removed and in a blink of an eye is a few feet shorter as Arya comes forth in her northern clothes with Needle and her dagger on her hips.

 

“We go to Seagard, find any information on a ship named The Grave Keeper or a Captain named Paxton Graves.” Daenerys nods and Arya nods in return before turning and taking off. 

 

“Why Seagard? And who is this captain?” Jaime speaks up.

 

Daenerys turns and takes a breath, just wanting to leave already. “Walder delivered Sansa and Rhaeya to Seagard and to Captain Paxton Graves for Cersei.” She turns away and waves the squire over who is tending her horse before looking back at them. “Jon could you return to the troops over the hill and send them on their way to Seagard, we shall catch up.” 

 

Jon nods his head and walks to his horse, thanking the squire before he mounts and rides out of keep. Daenerys finally mounts her own horse and waits for her party to do the same. She pats her horse’s neck in sincerity and then turns to leave the keep.

 

“Just a moment. Your Majesty, what did you mean by troops?” Emersen stands in front of the horses to stop them from moving.

 

“I have a force of nearly a thousand or so men just beyond the hills past the fields. It was a precaution should this not have gone as well as it has, have a good day Lord Emersen. Tell your partner, Damen, I said farewell.” Daenerys moves her horse around him and starts off before shouting over her shoulder. “What’s the child’s name?”

 

“Caitlin, for my aunt.” Emersen nods and waves them off.

 

Daenerys bites the inside of her cheeks, Cersei would not touch this Caitlin, her reign of terror was going to end. She turns back to look forward and her horse starts to run, the others following close behind as they make their way south to Seagard.

 

_ I’m coming my love. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember im on tumblr @canaries

**Author's Note:**

> love yall!!!
> 
> as always find me on tumblr. 
> 
> currently @ daensas.tumblr.com


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